02:24:36 AM
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Seung-gil checks the rest of his online coursework for any pending tasks before logging out. He has only this thesis and his final exam left before he's done for the semester. Even with Worlds looming over the corner, he makes sure to allot his weeknights for academics. It wouldn't do to break his routine now.
("This season, Lee Seung-gil intends to unleash a different side of himself, a sexier and more masculine image.")
He's more confident with his performance; maybe getting a 4.5 GPA won't be a dream anymore.
("He has declared his theme for this season to be 'greed.'")
It's what he wants, after all.
.
06:36:27 AM
The riverbank is quiet in the morning.
Seung-gil picks up his pace, each step in time with his rising heart rate. He likes to run in this part of town, with only the rising sun and spots of morning dew to keep him company. The water here is cleaner than in the rest of the city, where everyone rushes home from late night classes and work as early as four o'clock in the morning.
("We heard you cut hagwon again. That's the third time this month now. Skating isn't an excuse to let your grades slide.")
He is glad to have left that kind of life, at least.
("I'm sorry, Mom. It won't happen again.")
.
09:08:30 AM
Right, left, right, right, then turn.
Seung-gil knows the four corners of the ice rink like the back of his hand - where the flags are kept, which advertisements are up on which month, even which walls have cracks. He knows everyone's voices as much as he knows the sound of his own blades. The cold is nothing new; it is simply something one adapts to over time.
A keen observer, they call him. Meticulous, calculating, analytical.
("Next, solve this problem without using pen and paper. You have thirty seconds.")
He launches into a flying sit spin, imagining his audience go wild for him as he greets them with a triumphant wave and bow. Maybe this time, his mother will be there, shouting his name with pride.
Especially after everything she did for him.
("Your education is the only gift we can give you. Treasure it well.")
Everything he has worked hard for has led to this moment; he will not disappoint.
.
12:24:53 PM
"Come back to the office this evening. Some officials would like to have a word with you tonight."
"Yes, Ma'am," Seung-gil nods before heading into the locker room. Everyone else has gone off to lunch ahead of him, so he has the entire space to himself for at least half an hour more.
It's nice how he isn't as tired anymore these days, he muses while doing some more cooldown stretches. His rinkmates often berate him for working way too hard and practicing way too late. The lady running the front desk has already taken to leaving the keys to the building in the pocket of his team jacket every night.
He doesn't see it that way at all, however.
("Didn't Yonsei already offer you a scholarship? What a waste!")
Jae-ha, both his best friend and worst rival in high school, was gutted upon finding out he did not apply for any of the SKY universities despite having one of the best grades in class. He himself was accepted into Seoul National University on his first take - not that anyone has expected anything less. If anything, it was with Seung-gil's unexpected decision they were all surprised at.
("It's not worth it.")
.
02:07:18 PM
Today, Seung-gil learns a new English word: "impeccable".
His mentor is pleased with his work, as always. The graded abstract contains little to no corrections, and the final defense is scheduled for after Worlds. The teaching assistant is more than happy to offer pointers to "a hubae in need."
Other than that, classes prove to be uneventful yet again. Enrolling in the Open University means that he is able to take most of his lessons online, which has proven helpful for the most part while he trains full-time and competes abroad. This semester, however, Seung-gil enlists for a course to be taken in campus, for a change in pace, if nothing else.
He learns to tune out his mother's disappointment over time. The sting of all but rejection hurts, but he chooses to stand by his decision all the same.
("You can't skate and study at the same time. One day, you will have to choose.")
"Hyung," a seatmate calls out. Seung-gil's test paper is full of check marks, as always, save for one.
"Impeccable," he recites to himself. "It means 'faultless'."
There's no such thing.
("I won't.")
.
06:15:22 PM
Heo Jung-ho, 54. Chairman of the National Sports Committee. 1984, Tennis, Gold. Professor.
Nam Young-jin, 57. President of the Korean Skating Federation. 1980, Worlds, Bronze. Lawyer.
Min Ji-young, 45. Representative to the International Skating Union. 1992, GPF, Fourth. Writer.
A full minute of silence passes between Seung-gil and the three officials before one of them clears his throat.
"We'll cut to the chase, Lee Seung-gil," says Nam. "We want you to compete at the next Winter Games."
"Your performance in the past Four Continents Championship has earned you a spot in our shortlist of athletes for the Korean team," Min adds. "We have only to wait for your results in the upcoming World Championships to finalize your inclusion."
The details ring in Seung-gil's ears like a song on repeat, and he finds himself at a loss for words. The initial surprise eventually gives way to many other thoughts - of excitement, unease, apprehension, and underneath it all, determination.
He's waited for this all his life.
("You overthink. That's not always a good thing.")
There is only one answer.
"Do your best," Heo says tersely. "Make us proud."
("Just go for it.")
"I will. It's a great honor."
.
08:04:21 PM
Coach Park gives him the rest of the evening off. Seung-gil is disappointed with the wasted time, but he complies, nonetheless.
Jin-ju meets him at the doorstep, barking affectionately. She follows Seung-gil to the couch and settles by his legs. He gently strokes her fur while waiting for his laptop to boot up.
"Today is a good day, Jin-ju," he says softly. "I'll try to ask if I can take you to Pyeongchang. It's a beautiful city; you'll love it there."
Various speculations about the national team have made it to news websites. Seung-gil recognizes more than a few names - his fellow figure skaters, some coaches, his own.
("Are you listening? Everything you do is for Pyeongchang!")
He scrolls past it all and opens a different news article; best to not be complacent just yet.
Seung-gil gives himself a minute to regain his composure. The giddiness is indeed addictive, but he doesn't let it get into his head. The last time he did led to the most disappointing of results.
He doesn't let that get to him, either.
("Cheers from the crowd never affect my performance.")
It won't happen again.
.
10:59:21 PM
Seung-gil does make one exception, however.
His mother answers the phone at eleven o'clock PM on the dot. She always comes home from work at this time for the past fifteen years. He still remembers the family routine well, even if they live apart now. Like clockwork, he observes.
("Umma, umma! I can do a waltz jump now!")
He forces down the unease building up in his lungs. "It's been a while, Mom."
"Hello, Seung-gil," she answers. They do not need pleasantries; she knows him far too well for that.
"I might be going to Pyeongchang next year."
"I heard. Congratulations."
"My thesis defense is after Worlds. Final exams are after that. Then graduation."
"I see."
("Oh, I saw. Very good!")
Seung-gil lets the static on the line pass first, before clearing his throat. "That's all I have to say, Mom."
"Okay."
"I'll hang up now."
"... Seung-gil."
"What is it?"
"Don't overwork yourself."
He smiles, despite himself. "I won't."
.
02:15:23 AM
A package has been sent to your address. Below is the tracking number for your reference.
Seung-gil puts away the email, checking for any others he might have missed before logging out. Of all the correspondence he gets on a daily basis, it's the ones from his family that he looks forward to the most. They do not talk as much as others do, but words have never been their thing.
("Lee Seung-gil announces his theme for the next season.")
He is far from going down; he has all the support he needs.
Katsuki Yuuri won't be the last skater to talk about love.
("Do your best.")
And deliver he will.